


Corporate Coercion

by magdalenelaundry



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Gangbang, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalenelaundry/pseuds/magdalenelaundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an exceptionally self-indulgent bit of filth I wrote on Christmas Eve, concerning Vaughn fantasizing about a company party that gets way out of hand. just 10000% NSFW of Vaughn gettin' banged senseless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corporate Coercion

So there’s this thing, right? A little scenario he thinks about sometimes when he’s by himself. Like,  ** _really_** by himself. When he’s laying in bed in his apartment and he can’t sleep.

It’s some big shot’s birthday, or New Year’s or something, who cares, it’s a big party and the whole company shows up. It’s late, and the crowd’s filtered out a bit. Everyone’s been drinking, including him (especially him, if he’s being honest) and there’s smoke in the air from where a few people have lit up vaporizers full of whatever expensive uppers rich people are into nowadays. There’s a new hire he’s been talking to in the corner, someone with a corner office. Smells awesome, has a mile of straight white teeth, a nice new suit, and big, broad hands. Back in reality he rolls onto his back and idly strokes himself, already at half-mast thinking about where he’s going with this.

One thing leads to another, yada yada yada, he ends up in New Guy’s lap, getting manhandled as he unbuttons his shirt for him to suck bruises into his neck. He’s drunk and languid and self-assured, more than he is in real life, New Guy’s hands run all up and down his back, and his mouth is whiskey-hot all along the exposed line of his neck. Vaughn rides him like he means business, grinding their crotches together, and New Guy moans in his ear about “ _taking this somewhere more private_ " but Vaughn feels all the eyes in the room on him and he wants them to watch.

The lady from HR who always wears the miniskirts and the knee-high boots is at the end of the row, and when she catches him staring, she smiles and he knows she’s not wearing underwear. “ _And I used to think these things were boring_ ,” she says, and laces her fingers into his shirt-tail to pull him forward to her. New Guy is okay with sharing of course, and maneuvers his head into her lap for him while he palms his ass. Her legs spread for him and she pets his hair, tracing the sharp tips of her fresh manicure on his scalp. With her other hand she motions for a couple of other attendees to watch, and he thrills at the idea of an audience.

He plays coy for a bit, like he’s never done this before, licking shyly along the spread lips of her labia. She wraps her legs around his shoulders and arches up against his tongue, shoving her cunt to his face and making a noise like, “ _get to it, pipsqueak_ ”. He dispenses with the pretext and trails the tip of his tongue up and around until she’s nudging her hips restlessly, then circles her clit a couple of times and exhales as one of the other party-goers gets his ass totally out of his pants. As he works his fingers into her, he hears himself opening the cap of the lube and imagines someone else is doing the same to him. His own real fingers circle his hole, waiting for the fantasy to play out a little further.

Long slow licks against her slick folds make her clutch his head a little tighter, and he sets to work on a tight little rhythm that has him hooking his fingers up into her and his tongue flicking along her hood. Sucking HR Lady’s clit into his mouth makes her thighs tighten around his ears and she squeezes around his fingers in long, slippery shuddering. She takes a few breaths to ride it out, pushes him back up into New Guy’s lap, then pats him on the head and moans “ _good job cutie_ ,” and he flushes bright red at being complimented. Nothing turns him on like servicing someone, knowing he’s made someone come, and he wants everyone in the room to _use him_ like that. She smiles like she can read his mind, and makes a motion to one of her minions.

He gets laid out like a ragdoll over a couple of people’s laps, his dick leaking onto someone’s carefully creased slacks. A hand catches his hair and pushes him down while another plays idly with his ass, teasing him until he begs to be fucked,  _please sir_. He slides his fingers into himself when a female voice remarks to the person next to her, “ _it’s okay, little slut gets off on it, watch_ ”.

Big hands pull him upright back into New Guy’s lap and push his ass down onto his cock. One of the other suits watches hungrily and Vaughn grabs his tie and pulls his mouth to his, kisses him with more tongue than lips. He ends up caught between two bodies, his dick trapped between his own concave stomach and someone’s hard, company-gym-sponsored abs, getting shoved up and down onto a stranger’s cock while he jerks off two others. Whoever he’s kissing pushes his head down to suck him off and he does. New Guy groans into his shoulder and the fat head of his dick twitches as he comes inside him; Vaughn moans, loud and unabashedly around the dick in his mouth, and someone immediately takes New Guy’s place. He grinds back against three of his fingers as deep as he can get them, imagining one of his coworkers using someone else’s come to shove their dick into his ass. His face burns with embarrassment at getting off to the idea, but he’s hard as a diamond.

He gets lost in the blur for a few minutes and loses track of indistinct faces, whistling, some applause. The guy in his mouth pulls out to paint his face and Vaughn’s got come all over his glasses, and when he lets someone roll him over, he’s sticky all along his bare back and his thighs. A monogrammed pocket square comes out of someone’s suit pocket, wipes some of the jizz off his mouth so the owner of it can push the head of their dick against it. His lips part automatically and he gets it down his throat with practiced ease, moans at the helpless, dazed feeling that’s starting to set in on him. He doesn’t remember who’s who or who’s dick’s been in his ass or his mouth or his hand or where all the come on him is from, and he doesn’t care he’s so fucking delirious. Four of his fingers are in him now, and he still hasn’t touched his dick or this’ll be over.

“ _Pull his hair, he loves that_ ,” he hears from somewhere above. Somebody does, hard, and he sees stars. The Somebody is a foot taller than him, in a shiny black suit, halfway through a cigar that costs as much as his rent. Of course it’s fucking  _Vasquez,_  because his brain is perverse, and on one hand if he wasn’t so wound up, he’d be embarrassed and pissed. On the other, Vasquez is built like a brick shithouse, he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and he looks like a hot werewolf. There’s black hair in a big thick slash down his abdomen and his dick requires some suspension of disbelief. It’s massive, and Vaughn wants it in him so fucking bad his teeth itch. He snaps himself out of it long enough to reach into his nightstand for a toy, the biggest one he has, and more lube.

“ _Who knew you were such a dirty slut, baby face_ ,” Vasquez groans into his ear, and his beard scratches along his jaw as he runs his big fingers along the wet rim of his used, pink asshole. “ _I don’t usually take sloppy seconds, but you’re still pretty tight for a party whore_ ,” he hisses. “ _You’re lucky you got warmed up. Think you can handle me, little guy_?” Vaughn growls at the insult, pushes his ass back at him like a challenge, and Vasquez shoves him to the ground. He carefully re-adjusts so he’s face-down on his bed, ass in the air, gets the head of the dildo lined up, and presses, gasping as it fills him, hard against the inside of the sensitive ring.

“ _Feels like I’m gonna split you in fuckin’ half babe_ ,” Vasquez spits as he sinks into him and yeah, it does. One of the other suits gives a long, appreciative whistle when he takes him all the way to the hilt, gritting his teeth and setting his jaw determinedly. The guy goes to town on him, keeping his giant hand flat against his spine, burning hot between his shoulders. It hurts but it’s the kind of hurt that’s so deeply satisfying it’s like scratching an itch from the inside, like how winter air burns your lungs, like drinking until the room is spinning. Vaughn’s probably sobbing from it, he can’t even fucking tell everything in the haze of wet heat.

Big Bad Vasquez wants to be the one to make him come, and he adjusts his angle until he’s got the head of his borderline-ridiculous dick ramming Vaughn’s prostate. Every push earns him a long stream of expletives, loud and shameless in his fantasy, whispered in his real apartment. He looks down at himself fucking his giant toy, a fat drop of pre-come leaking out of his cock like it’s been pushed right out of him. As skinny as he is he can practically see an outline of the thing right under his fucking ribs. If he so much as breathes he’s going to come. “ _You ever been fucked like this before?_ " Hot Douchebag asks him, confident in the answer. " _No sir_ ,” he breathes out, and it’s the truth; he’ll be lucky to stand up after this, much less walk. He gets the toy all the way into himself again and imagines Vasquez coming first  _goddammit_ , with an undignified grunt of capitulation, filling him up until he’s dripping. There’s so much lube pooling under him he can almost believe it, and he finally really jerks himself off, hard and rough. With a broken little sigh, he comes so hard he almost passes out.

He doesn’t, thankfully, but he does just lay there for a long few minutes. Carefully, he slips the toy out of himself with a hiss, sore already. There’s a bit of drool on his chin. Come is drying all over his stomach and even a bit in his chest hair. He glares down at his stupid, worn-out, traitorous dick. “ _Vasquez_? Fucking seriously? You’re gross,” he says directly to his own genitals, rolling off the bed and towards the shower, limping.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about not tagging Vasquez in this because I wanted it to be a ~*surprise*~ but I did, just in case that was a buzzkill for anyone who is distracted by the fact that he's voiced by Brock Samson.


End file.
